


Coming Home

by Orcinus_the_Orca



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, I'm Sorry, Phil is implied, Ranboo needs a hug, Techno is a good friend, The title is super generic, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:47:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcinus_the_Orca/pseuds/Orcinus_the_Orca
Summary: It's the after-hours of L'manburg's destruction. The last thing Techno wants to do is go back, but there's something he needs to do first.
Relationships: Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 172





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hi! I thought I would start this fic off by shouting out [AyonixAnimations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyonixAnimations) for Beta-reading!! If you like Ranboo content, she's got a pretty lit story going on with him. Please go check her out. She's an amazing writer and an even better friend. That said, please enjoy!!

The moment the wooden door creeps open, the howling wind pushes itself into the home, its high whine screeching in the ears of all who dared to hear. Snow dragged after, the large flakes quick to pile at the door’s frame and coat the wooden floorboards. As soon as the door had opened, it was closed again, barred from the inside.

His back to the wall, Technoblade holds his ground. He listens for movement, sure the wind had given away his midnight endeavors to the man on the second floor. He waits for footsteps or the call for his name, but neither comes. Techno counts to sixty before he breathes.

Techno feels the cold crawl into his skin. The sky is dark with clouds, and he can hear the mobs groaning and rattling not far from where he stands. It’s relieving, knowing that all is the same even in the after-hours of destruction. He stares up, watching the flakes swirl in and out, allowing them a moment to settle. With a jolt, he pries himself from the door and is down the porch steps, muttering his final apologies to the man upstairs.

There’s a building settled to the side of the house, abandoned and left untouched until now. Techno pulls the door open, the hinges screeching their protests, and a thousand eyes are staring at him. Wolves, all sitting, whine at the sight of their master, a few pups daring to step out and bark. The pigman scoffs.

“Only a few of you,” he tells them, and they understand. Some sit back, a few curl back into sleep, while others inch closer with anticipation.

Despite the dogs’ attempts, Techno orders the nearest two out of the building. Obediently, they bound out, leaping into the snow only to shake it free after. Techno follows, pausing to shut and lock the doghouse behind him.

Techno sighs and looks to the sky, noting the steadily growing snowfall and dropping temperature. They don’t have much time left.

C:C:

Before the boat had turned the river’s bend, Techno could smell the smoldering remains of wood and flesh. No flames were to be seen, drowned out by rain and snow, leaving dead space in the shape of a crater. A system’s skeleton snaked over a small country’s remnants, its task complete and now left abandoned meters above the ground. No longer was there an extravagant build to mark the town, no longer a hideous tower to guide people home. The country was gone, not even her citizens hoping for her return.

But to revel in its defeat was not Techno’s reason to come. There were too many kilometers to cover, too many entities to account for, that would convince him not to come out and stare. He would not waste hours of his time for a pointless battle tonight.

The boat rocked up to the bank, and Techno lunged out, a pickaxe in one hand and a shield in his other. The dogs he had brought made chase, not without falling into the water first. He did not wait for them, already marching towards the hole that was L’manburg.

He skirted only the outline, unwilling to bet his escape on loose rocks and layering ice. He allowed the wolves free roam to investigate whatever caught their interest. Naturally, they were drawn to the scent of dried blood and forgotten corpses. Techno could smell the iron, feeling his system and mind buzz with thrill. He began to recognize where he had killed, a million little voices describing how he had struck one and decapitated another in vivid detail. They were all so excited, and they molded into a drawl in the back of his head.

He was nearing the river, halfway around the crater’s circumference, when he heard it; a voice so muffled and disjointed that Technoblade might have thought it was the wind if not for the objective. The piglin huffed, but there was nothing but relief in the gesture.

With the voice as his guide and snow to cushion his steps, Techno trudged from the ruins. The winds were picking up, his vision nearly impaired, and his dogs no longer in earshot. He did not need to go far before finding the mounting side of a cliff and the small hole carved into its face. It did not take a genius to recognize it was handmade and recent, the disturbed snow and frozen blood on the stone a clear telling.

Taking his sword into his palm, Techno ventured inside, but he did not need to go far to find the voice’s owner.

There was hardly any light to go by, but he could make out the body tucked in the furthest corner of the room. A boy, tall and scraggly, no older than eighteen, rocked back and forth in his seat, continually muttering. His voice was hoarse, choked, obviously crying. Slender fingers, ones too long for any human to possess, had tangled themselves into a mop of scruffy hair and were tugging on the locks. He kept shaking his head, whining before delving further into the debate.

“Ranbo.”

The body shifted, unfurling from its ball to allow the head to lift. Red and green eyes come to stare back, the orbs illuminating the dark space with a harsh light. Lips part and a hiss falls, the jaw unhinging to present large fangs that glisten under the ominous glow.

“Wh–Stop that,” Technoblade groaned; he dug a heel into his eyes, rubbing the grime free. “Bruh, Ranbo, I’m not here to fight.”

Slowly, the hissing stopped, and the jaw clamped tight, bicolored eyes left to stare at the piglin above. The boy did not speak nor move. Sheathing his sword, Techno moved forward and extended his hand.

“Trust me, Ranbo, I would much rather be in bed right now,” Techno grumbled against his tusks. “But Phil wouldn’t appreciate you freezing to death. So let’s get out of here, ‘kay?”

Mismatched eyes stared, but not at Techno. They focused straight ahead, wide and blank and unmoving. His breathing had grown more rugged, but he was drawing tighter into his protective ball. Nail began digging into his pants’ legs, tearing the delicate fabric.

“Ranboo…?”

“I-I don’t want to remember it, Techno,” Ranboo whimpered. His voice was hardly above a whine, his shoulders bunching. “L’manburg, the war, the p-people…I don’t want to remember them. It. I want to forget…I want to forget.”

“Lol, same.”

Ranboo shut up, pursing his lips together as he finally looked up at Techno. He sniffed once before pressing his face down into his knees, pulling them somehow closer to his chest. He didn’t mumble again, but the soft sobs were indisputable.

Technoblade grumbled to himself and turned away. He was never the best when it came to small talk, it had, but he had come too far and spent too much time to abandon his mission now. He glanced back to the narrow entrance, cursing when he realized the storm had only grown worse.

“Okay, listen,” Techno moved back, crouching to meet eye level with the younger entity. “I’m going to take you somewhere else, somewhere safe. Phil’s there. It’s going to be okay, Ranboo. It’s going to be okay.”

Ranboo remained still.

Techno frowned at the lack of response, but it didn’t matter. Techno proceeded to unclasp his cape and drape it over Ranboo’s quaking body. It didn’t cover everything, the hybrid far too tall for the cloak, but it would have to suffice until they got to the cabin. He adjusted it briefly before scooping the young man into his arms, immediately tightening his hold when Ranboo began to thrash.

“Calm down, would ya?!” Techno yelled. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but Ranboo heeded his words. The bundle in his arms froze in place, breathing, and Techno regretted covering the boy’s head. Carefully, he readjusted Ranboo in his grip and carried them back to the outside world. The wolves were there waiting, shivering but alive.

“Come on,” Techno pulled Ranboo tighter, “let’s go home.”

C:C:

It was past midnight when Techno climbed the cottage’s steps, dogs trotting at his ankles. Their heads and tails sagged to the snow floor, a slight limp in both of their strides. They had grown bored of the creature tucked in Techno’s arms, finding no entertainment in investigating a bundle that did not move. For that, the piglin was immensely grateful; it was challenging to tread through a snowstorm while two dogs attempted to snuffle an inhuman boy.

Techno pushes the cabin’s door free with an awkward hand, wincing when the dogs immediately bound in. They run to the crackling fire, attracted by the heat and the wolf curled in a boat. An Enderman sits beside the snoring canine, clutching onto his prized grass block. His eyes stare down at the wolves suddenly by his side, as though mystified that there can be more than one dog in existence. He chirrups at them, and they sniff in return.

Techno smirked at the interaction. He pushed the door closed with his heel before making his way to where the dogs had collected. By Edward the Enderman, Techno set Ranboo down and pulled the cape free from the younger boy’s head. Ranboo blinked at Techno, confusion written in the expression and growing when the piglin dropped the robe back into the hybrid’s lap. Techno sniffed in acknowledgment and turned away, moving around to secure the door. More importantly, he was listening for the second floor and the movement of its occupant.

“T-Techno?”

It was the first time Ranboo had spoken since leaving L’manburg and the first time Techno jumped at a voice. The piglin glanced over his shoulder, staring back at the mismatched eyes that bore into his soul. At that moment, Techno saw how much smaller Ranboo looked curled on the floor, fingers clutching onto a red cape as though his life depended on it. Techno turned away, fighting off the intruding memories of blond hair and obnoxious laughter.

“Er-Uhm, Phil’ll be up in the morning,” Techno stammered, refusing to face Ranboo. “You’re uh, you’re welcome to sleep here until he wakes up. There should be, like, food in the chests behind you. Take what you need.”

Ranboo didn’t answer, and that was fine by Techno. He had spent enough time talking, and there was still work to be done. He needed to check every window and door to make sure they were shut and locked. There were many people outside who would want to see his head on a spike, idiots who would break into his house with a diamond hoe to make some crude joke. The thought alone gave the piglin a headache.

Techno huffed as he fitted the final latch, testing the hold of the door one more time. He knew all was secured, knew that nothing could break-in, but haunting voices in his head reminded him otherwise. He had learned not to listen, but he was tired and injured. Even then, he knew he would have to stay up for the night, for Phil’s sake. It was the least Techno could do.

Techno climbed the ladder back to the ground floor, freezing when he felt eyes on him. He turned to see Ranboo still awake. He had moved to lean against the wall, Techno’s cloak now fit properly snug around his shoulders. The wolves had moved to either side of Ranboo, each with a hand laced in their thick fur.

Slowly, Techno crawled onto the floor and sat back on the quartz wall. He drew one leg to his chest, pinning it there with his right elbow. His free hand came to hold the hilt of his sword, prepared to pull it from its sheath at any moment.

Techno could only stare, wanting to speak, but he did not have the words to use. How was one meant to start a conversation with a child you kidnapped apart through insults?

A log in the fireplace collapsed, a thunk and a brightening of flames giving Techno the moment to look away and at the flickering orange.

“Thank you.”

Techno glanced up, staring at the boy tucked in the corner. He was watching the fire now, carefully stroking the wolf in his lap. The piglin blinked, eyes widening as he realized it hadn’t been the voices to speak. Techno huffed and leaned back, glancing at the second floor with a soft expression.

“I guess you can stay. For a while.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I just thought I'd add here that I started writing this before knowing that Phil had already invited Ranboo to stay with them. But this idea would not leave, so here we are!! I hoped you liked it and please let me know your thoughts. Have a pleasant day!! <3
> 
> –Orcinus


End file.
